Paint it Orange
Bucket One: The Rising Sun
Somewhere in the underbelly of New York City, below the manholes and somewhere along the labyrinth of pipes was a family. A small family that had a complete set of values and practiced kick-ass ninjitsu. They were the best kind of people. Well, almost. If they could be called humans.
Green three-fingered hands flipped though magazine pages. Mikey had just gotten the newest issue of Hi-Fructose from April. She had been kind enough to lend her address to any of the turtles if they needed it. It made Donny's ebay shopping convenient, and it saved Mikey from showing his green shell in bookstores whenever he needed to pick up certain comics or magazines to inspire him in his artistic activities, which he indulged in during his free time.
He turned the thin, glossy pages one sheet at a time, breathing in all the colors and textures printed in the art magazine. As the terrapin grew older, he learned that there was more to artistry than comic books and RPG game character designs. But of course, Stan Lee still topped his list, and Picasso was one of the top few from the bottom. Art was common online, and selling prints online started getting popular. Mikey had thought that jumping in the bandwagon could earn him a few bucks to spend on birthday gifts for Sensei or his brothers, and of course, on videogames and paint. And maybe a pizza or two too.
James Jean. Audrey Kawasaki. Camille Louise Garcia. Mark Ryden. More pages turned.
His eyes stopped on one page. The illustration seemed to pull something from inside of him towards it. It was the silhouette skyscrapers against a violet sky that was bleeding pink from being stabbed by rising sun. On one of the buildings was a shadowy man, lean and tall. His hands seemed to be crossed over his chest, as if guarding over the city, or the pose of subtle triumph after one was satisfied with a job well done. Judging from the silhouette, the man was wearing a Japanese hakama whose sleeves were ripped off, and the cloth of the loose pants were being slightly blown by a night breeze. His hair was short, spiked up, and was being tickled by the wind. Mikey could almost see that it was a dirty blonde, despite the lack of color present. There was a cloth mask that covered the upper side of the man's face, two round cut-outs created holes for him to see. Funny thing was, the mask was actually painted a bright orange, a stark contrast against the dark colored image.
It was like the human embodiment of Michelangelo.
"No, it must be a coincidence," he said to himself, over and over again. He was a ninja: identity was a secret. No one outside the family knew him, except, well, April, Casey, Shredder… you get the point.
Though he would admit to himself that he would be rather flattered if a gallery's main piece was inspired by his existence. (Of course, he was the most handsome, fun, inspiring mutant ninja turtle. Well, if you count that there were only four of them, it didn't seem so farfetched.) However, chances that it was were slim to none.
His attention broke away from the image, down to the white text sprawled at the bottom of the page.
Modern Day City Samurai
Nick Chang.
Gallery Opening Night: October 31. 6:00pm.
Refreshments will be served.
No Halloween costumes, no entry.
It was a week from now. Mikey thought that getting to see the exhibit would be interesting. He had never really gone to see a real art exhibit. There was once when they trashed thieves from stealing a painting in the art museum, but that didn't really count. Don just might accompany him, too. The day being Halloween was a bonus, as they could run around the city as they were without trying to hide the green shell and all. Being a turtle also totally beats Justin Beiber as a costume, too.
The night of the exhibit came fast, too. Although at first, Leo preferred them to celebrate Halloween like they had every other year: in a pizzeria where they were all turtle, no trench coats, no glasses, no hats. However, after a much heated discussion, Don took sides with Mikey and stated that they could have the little birthday party at 8, after their visit to the gallery. Then, everyone agreed.
"Dude, don't we need to dress up a bit more?" Mikey was pacing around his room in random circles. He was slightly panicked and full of excitement.
"No, we look costume-y enough," his purple-clad sibling replied.
"But its Halloween man!"
Don sighed. "Green already let's us stand out enough," he argued, "We already make really good mascots. Now, hurry up before we miss the ribbon-cutting. It's already 5:35."
The entrance of the exhibit hall was buzzing with colors. People in all sorts of costumes and props were walking and chatting around. The turtle brothers got a "Hey, nice costume" from time to time. It warmed Mikey's heart, but Don was unaffected. He was only there purely to accompany his bro. Or maybe be his chaperone. Or maybe he was interested after seeing magazine page that Mikey more or less pushed into his face a few nights ago.
Not long after they had arrived, there were a few people that arrived (they looked pretty important), accompanied by men in suits and shades (that looked somehow like those in The Matrix) and some security guards that parted the crowd like the red sea. A man with a mop of black hair was standing in the middle of the VIPs. Holding on to an extra large pair of scissors. Mikey thought that he would most likely be Nick Chang. There was a yellow straw hat on his head, and he was clad in a red sleeveless shirt, denim Bermudas, and flip-flops. He was being Luffy, the protagonist of an anime series called One Piece, which Mikey had grown fond of.
Unlike most ribbons that were red and satin, this gallery's ribbon was a wad of caution tapes that looked gave the bow a slightly urgent yet foreboding feeling. As Mikey peeked into the actual gallery, caution tape was draped on walls and ceilings, ad if streamers. Someone muttered that the entire concept was Nick's idea, which the turtle thought was quite cool, since the paintings had a sense of danger in them. Like a ninja, much like himself. Oh wait… wasn't it about samurais?
Don noticed that the ribbon cutting ceremony wasn't as formal as he'd thought it would be. There was no talking, only the cutting itself, and the flashing of cameras. But judging from the dress code, it was not supposed to be formal at all.
Once the barrier was out, people rushed in to see the paintings. There were no speeches, thanks, or opening remarks. It was just like that.
Essentially, the paintings portrayed characters from Feudal Japan set in a city and painted on with beautiful colors and patterns that resembled origami paper.
Mikey immediately dragged Don to see the painting that was featured in Hi-Fructose. It was like an A4 sheet of paper that was as tall as the ceiling. It was huge. There were actually more details to it: the silhouette wasn't a flat black color, there were tones that shaped the man and the buildings. There was also a Japanese pattern of waves and sakura flowers lined in with lacquer that shined under the gallery lights. The man's features were slightly revealed from the peeking sunlight. His arms were toned, and his shoulders were broader in the actual painting. And guess what, a pair of nunchaku rested on the obi at his waist.
Mikey's eyes widened.
No way in hell.
"Mikey," Don was in the similar state of confusion and shock, "Have you actually met Nick Chang before?"
The poor turtle was too dumbstruck to reply. He just shook his head.
"There is a striking similarity to you. And I'm not too good with art. So that's saying something…"
While Mikey was still standing in front of what was probably a painting of him, trying to unravel the meaning behind it, Don went off to get a drink.
A man in a red shirt walked over to the turtle (or rather, man in the turtle costume) and looked at the painting with admiring eyes. It was Nick Chang.
"Umm… Hi. You're Nick Chang, right?" Manners and formalities failed the turtle. Leo could never get him to learn anyways. He looked up (yes, because he was slightly shorter. Maybe because of his asian genes) to Mikey and gave a smile and a slight nod, affirming.
"So, what inspired you to paint this…?" His three fingers gestured up and down the painting.
"Oh. Good question. I've always imagined that…" For the second time within the span of the same 10 minutes, Mikey found himself in confusion. So confused that whatever Nick was saying didn't register in his brain. Why? Because Nick's voice was rather high pitched, and it sounded rather cute. It didn't at all sound like one of a grown assed man's. The turtle tried to look at the man's torso it the subtlest way possible, to try to clarify his doubts. True enough, Nick's chest was flat. Like an airplane runway. Nick's hair was short and in spikes, clearly resembling the character he as trying to be. His features, however, were too soft to be a man's. Nick Chang resembled one of those famous Korean soap stars that pissed Mikey off to no end, since Asian dramas had replaced thriller series on the TV schedule.
"…so yeah. This one's my favorite out of the whole lot," she (since Mikey decided that Nick was most likely a girl, despite the factors that said otherwise) finished. "Awesome costume, by the way," she smiled again, "what made you think of being a turtle?"
I didn't really have a choice, dudette. I'm like, a real live giant turtle.
"Well…" He was racking his brains for some excuse.
"Excuse me, Miss Chang—" someone had tapped her from behind, and asked for an autograph. She gave Mikey and apologetic smile before she turned around to entertain the other guest. Before she could turn back to the turtle, one of the Matrix men dragged her away.
Mikey gave out a sigh of relief. At least he didn't need to answer the question.
Don came back with two glasses of punch, one he handed to Mikey. "So, did you figure it out yet?"
"Naw. I just blew off my chance asking the artist."
"Oh hi," it was the cute voice on the microphone, "I would like to thank everyone that came to my first exhibit here in New York. I appreciate all your effort coming down here today, despite the occasion. I missed trick or treating." She laughed at her not-so-funny joke, and some laughed along with.
"Once again, I really thank y'all, and I hope that you enjoyed looking at my paintings. Before I finish talking, I'd love to ask everyone to take a look at the gallery's title piece, Modern Day City Samurai," all heads turned to the Mikey painting. "Since some people have asked, and I really don't want to sound like a broken record, this piece was what started this entire set. I was playing mahjong in my apartment sometime ago, and my window was left open. My friend was so slow in taking her turn, I just stared outside. It was almost dawn. I saw this figure that was jumping on rooftops, which made me think of samurais and ninjas. Or Bruce Lee." She gave another chuckle, "The mask is just orange, because the sun was up in the sky a few moments later after the person was gone, and I just copied the sky's color," she thanked the crowd one again before she put the microphone down.
"There you go. Now we know," Don turned to face his brother with a smirk that either meant you're screwed in a good way, or, hey, she likes you, and you're gonna get teased about this. Michelangelo didn't know which it was.
Well, first TMNT! And its 3:26 in the AM.
This idea came to me last night, and I just had to write it out. I hope it wasn't too bland and uninteresting.
Quite short for a first chapter, and there's no plot revealed whatsoever. Please bear with me. :I
O-level exams are coming soon, and I might not have the chance to update in a month. Just tune in for the next installation? :D
Please comment, thanks!
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Hi-Fructose- art magazine that features (usually) low brow artists. Sometimes includes interviews. Has schedules for gallery openings.
hakama- Japanese kimono-like clothes for men. They come with pants.
obi- the cloth that is tied on the waist, usually to hold the clothes together